


let's talk about

by mnemememory



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Crack, F/F, I think I'm funny, what even is this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-09
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2020-04-23 05:15:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19144288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mnemememory/pseuds/mnemememory
Summary: “Quick, how do you make sex noises?”Beau blearily pulls the phone away from her ear to squint at the too-bright screen. “…Yasha?”





	let's talk about

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**let's talk about**

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“Quick, how do you make sex noises?”

Beau blearily pulls the phone away from her ear to squint at the too-bright screen. “…Yasha?”

“Beau, I don’t have much time,” very-definitely-Yasha says. “I have to be in the recording booth in ten minutes, and –”

Beau shakes her head and sits up, scrubbing her free hand across her scalp. Jester is snoring peacefully across the room. Beau has the insane urge to throw something at her. She needs someone awake to tell Beau if she’s dreaming.

“Sex noises? Recording…? Wait, weren’t you _married_?”

“Zuala was ace,” Yasha says. She doesn’t sound quite as stoic as she usually does when she says her deceased wife’s name, which means she is either very drunk or very desperate.

“What about porn?” Beau says a little hysterically, struggling to come to terms with the concept of Yasha having never had sex, ever, not once. Yasha was just – very sexy. Impossibly sexy. _Unfairly_ sexy, is what she was.

“Beau, focus,” Yasha says. “Sex noises.”

Beau is still kind of stuck on – well, the beginning, really.

“Why did you call _me_?”

Yasha clears her throat. It sounds absurdly loud in the quiet room, the only real sound being Jester’s obnoxious snoring and the rattling of their half-broken heater pumping out lukewarm air into their chilly dorm room.

“Well,” Yasha says, in a way that suggests that she is picking her words very carefully. “I have…heard…from some people…that you are very good at –”

Beau yelps. “You are never allowed to talk to any of my exes again.”

On the other side of the phone, Yasha is practically radiating awkwardness. “Are you going to help me, or should I start Googling?”

Beau shakes her head and takes a moment to press her face into her pillow and question the existence of a higher power. Then she comes up for air and says, “Okay, okay, okay, what do you need to know?”

Yasha lets out a tired breath. “What does it _sound_ like?”

Beau works her teeth together. “Do you want, like, a reference, or –?”

“I have under seven minutes to sound like I know what sex sounds like,” Yasha says. “I definitely need a reference, I think.”

There is a fairly large difference between acting out a sex scene alone in a sound booth with a director on the other side of the glass and – well, over the phone in her bed with her roommate on the other side of the room. Beau thinks she does a fairly good job with the material she’s given, though.

“Keep it high and breathy,” she says. “Um, try not to groan too much, guys don’t find that sexy –”

“Guys,” Yasha says, flat.

“Well, that’s the target audience, so that’s who we’ve gotta perform to,” Beau says, a little stung. She moves on before she can really let that fester. Seven minutes is seven minutes, after all. “Hitch your voice a little, like this –”

Yasha listens on the other side of the phone as Beau demonstrates what she thinks is the best acting that she’s ever done _in her life_. There is improv, and then there is being woken up at three AM to be asked to roleplay sex, but like, not in a fun way.

“Okay,” Yasha says after a minute or so into the heavily scaled-back lesson on What Sounds Sexy over a mic. “Let me try.”

Beau is about to listen to Yasha make sex noises. She either did something really good in a past life, or she did something _really bad_.

“Okay,” she says, and hopes that her voice doesn’t come out too strangled. Professional, Beau, be professional. Beau can totally be professional. Professional is Beau’s middle _nam_ –

Nope, nope, nope, cannot be professional. Beau bites down on her lip, _hard_ , and makes a strangled sound into her pillow.

Yasha cuts herself off. “That bad?”

It takes Beau a minute to recover. “Maybe a little softer,” she says. “Use your whole diaphragm. Don’t be afraid to put your back into it.” And then the presses her face back into her pillow and begins to once again attempt manual suffocation.

Yasha clears her throat and tries again.

Beau rolls onto her back and sounds to five. “That one sounds better,” she says. “Maybe don’t sigh so long, chop it up a little. Do you have any dialogue you need to say?”

Yasha gives a muffled snort through the speaker. “Just a few different names,” she says. “Originally my character wasn’t a romance option, but –”

Beau grimaces. “Yeah,” she says. “Do you have to do many takes? Try again.”

Yasha tries again.

“No, you need to be a little more forceful with your breathing, maybe a little loud – wait, where are you?”

There is a telling pause.

Beau closes her eyes. “Yasha, where are you practicing?”

“You don’t want to know,” Yasha says.

“ _Yasha_.”

“You don’t. Want to know.”

Beau punches her pillow and checks the time. “Okay, one more, but this time throw in a name or two so we can get that pitched right as well.”

“I signed a nondisclosure contract,” Yasha says.

Beau grits her teeth. “A name, Yasha. _Any_ name. People talk differently when they have sex. Like – imagine the other person as someone seeing you at your most intimate and vulnerable. That’s going to change how you see them, right? It’s totally the same as changing your pitch if someone is in a high-stakes situation.” It’s totally not the same, but Beau doesn’t have time to start panicking over this _for_ Yasha when it’s obvious that Yasha is panicked enough about this herself.

“Okay,” Yasha says. She clears her throat again. “Okay, okay.”

“Take a deep breath,” Beau says. “And just start from the beginning.”

Over the phone there is a series of short gasps, followed by a breathy, “ _Beau_.”

Beau killed someone in a past life. Beau killed _multiple someones_ in a past life.

“That’s good,” Beau says. Her voice comes out as slightly high-pitched, but hey, she’s trying to keep it cool. Nice and cool. Calm, even. Beau is the dictionary definition of calm. “You’ll get some direction from whoever you’re working with as well, but those are the basics.”

Yasha starts to say something, but then stops. After a few seconds of torturous silence, she says, “Thanks, Beau. I have to go now, but I’ll call you later to tell you how it went.”

“Okay!” Beau says. Her voice doesn’t sound right.

Yasha hangs up. Beau blinks into the darkness and contemplates all of her life decisions.

From across the room, Jester throws a pillow somewhere in the direction o Beau’s bed. “I thought we agreed no phone sex on weekdays?”

Beau grabs onto the pillow and hugs it for dear life. “That wasn’t phone sex,” she says.

“It sounded like phone sex,” Jester says. “Was that Keg? Were you having phone sex with Keg?”

“No!” Beau says. Her face won’t stop burning. Yasha had sounded _very, very good_ at imaginary sex. Beau is going to die. “That was not Keg! That was Yasha! And we were _not_ having phone sex!” Unfortunately.

Jester’s voice changes. “Oh, it was Yasha?” she says. “That’s okay then. You can have phone sex with Yasha if you want. Do you want me to leave the room?”

Beau screams into Jester’s pillow.

“Well,” Jester’s voice turns sly. “I can stay, if you really want.”

“I’m going back to bed,” Beau says. “And I’m going to pretend that none of this ever happened.”

“Wait,” Jester says. “Does that mean that you and Yasha are dating? Beau, Beau, I need to know. I have a bet going on with Caduceus –”

“Good _night_.”

**Author's Note:**

> this was written by me, an asexual, with no actual knowledge or desire for sex. 
> 
> why am i like this.
> 
> for more quality content like this, come check out my [tumblr](https://mnemememory.tumblr.com/)


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